


Love Isn't Monetary

by mikasasha



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, also just to help with visualization: gil is indian and dark skinned n dyes his hair white. jsyk, alternate universe- theyre rich!, trust fund au pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 20:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikasasha/pseuds/mikasasha
Summary: There's only one thing that money cannot buy. Fortunately, sometimes that one thing is not terribly difficult to come across.





	Love Isn't Monetary

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhhhh i didnt beta this so have fun with that

If one was to ask Gil what his interests are, he can't say that "modern art" would be at the top of the list. He's not sure it would even be at the middle of the list. Gil appreciates the time and effort these artists put in their work; truly, some of these displays for auction are spectacular, and well worth their price. But he just doesn't _get_  some of it. Maybe it's some sort of lack of creativity, but he's not entirely sure what exactly he's supposed to make of what seems like completely random items shoved together, if it made any items at all.

Nevy had forced him to go to this modern art auction deep in the evening; something she had heard about in passing and thought would be "very sophisticated and a good way to get outside". And yet, despite it turning out to be very sophisticated and a good way to get outside, Nevy would not for the life of her join Gil to go to the auction. She had said that this was Gil's way of getting out of the house and "making friends". (In which, honestly, she can't even talk! As if she has friends lining out the door!)

As he stands here, however, he can't help but realize how _alone_  he is. So much for making friends. The only people he's seeing here are thrice his age and look more boring than even Gil could dream of being. Everyone here reminds him of his parents, and if some of the paintings being sold weren't so miraculously colorful, he would have left ages ago.

He buys two paintings and a sculpture an hour and a half into the auction; all of the pieces he buys having a more solid, visible meaning to them than some others he's seen. He's gotten the two paintings for himself; one a soft canvas with light pinks and whites, the other bright and abstract, with striking colors. The sculpture is for Nevy; something smooth, soft and bulbous to touch, and the feeling is not dissimilar to touching a stream.

After two hours, he figures that three items is enough, right? Half a million dollars; it's not exactly a huge loss in comparison to how much money he collectively has, but he doesn't see any reason to throw away more on a hobby he doesn't even particularly care about too much.

Besides, it's nine at night, he's bored out of his mind, and the gallery isn't offering any refreshments with an alcohol content high enough to satisfy him.

Gil sees him when he's about to leave. And by God, is he _gorgeous_.

He's all dark clothes and scruff, facial hair clinging to what seems every part of his face it should except his top lip. His jaw is strong and sharp, his nose long and flat. His lids are hooded and his eyes sparkle as they trace along the paintings lining the walls of the gallery.

He doesn't _look_  rich.

If he isn't, Gil wants to _make_  him rich.

Gil feels himself getting flustered just looking at the man; the only man in the entire building minus a curator or two who's even remotely close to his age. He's so attractive. He's _so_  attractive. It's _ridiculous_.

Gil changes every plan he has of leaving to loitering on a gallery wall, watching the man from afar look the paintings on the wall up and down. Gil holds the cross dangling from his neck in his fingers, fiddling with it while his bottom lip wedges itself between the two rows of his teeth. When the man seems to have his fill of observing the art on the walls, he walks to the middle of the room, where the main auction is taking place.

And the man buys the next seven pieces up for auction.

As Gil stands there, watching the man keep a stone cold, hardly interested demeanor any time the price for anything he wants goes higher, he feels nothing but shock, and can't choke down the thought of how the hell he's so unafraid of spending his money. Gil may not be so stellar at math, but the man definitely fought a little for some of those paintings, and collectively they should easily add to at least two million.

After the seventh piece, the man must find it enough, for he turns to go towards the register. Gil immediately follows, opting on paying for his pieces now too, since the only thing holding his interest in the place is leaving.

Behind him in line, Gil finds he's right. Two million, three hundred and forty four thousand, seven hundred dollars.

Gil pays a quarter of that.

He rushes out of the door and into the night air as soon as he can, paintings neatly tucked into their portfolios and the sculpture wrapped up to the nines, worried he'll lose the man, and almost runs into him.

The man has his arms full of art, but that doesn't stop him from having a cigarette between his fingers as he stands outside in the dark, seemingly waiting for something.

Gil is about to apologize for almost stumbling into him, but the man speaks first. "Y-You k-kept staring at m-me." He says in a voice that isn't accusatory or nervous, but rather blasé.

The stutter is cute.

Gil, had he been born with lighter skin, would have blushed. "Oh. Oh, uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude-"

"W-Wasn't rude. I kn-know I d-don't l-look like I have m-money. You're n-not the only p-person to stare."

"No!" Gil squeaks. "No, it's nothing like that, I promise. I wasn't assuming you weren't wealthy or anything-"

"Then what w-were you staring at me f-for?" He asks with a cock of his eyebrow and a drag of his cigarette.

Jesus Christ, the guy's eyes are purple.

Gil's palms begin to sweat and he bites his lips. "I... Uh..."

The man laughs at that; nothing loud, nothing jovial, and certainly easy to miss, but a laugh nonetheless. "That's c-cute."

Gil wouldn't be surprised if he _is_  blushing.

"You don't really look like the type I'd assume to frequent art auctions, is all." Gil's response sounds like a lie on his own ears.

The man hums at that. "Yeah? W-Why's that?"

Gil licks his lips. "Not the fashion choice I've seen many art lovers have."

"You've f-found yourself a n-new type of art lover, then."

The man takes another drag of his cigarette. As he watches the man's cheeks hollow just slightly and sees the man's jaw clench, body twisting around the inhalation of the perverted air, he realizes two things. The first, that the man didn't take his eyes off of Gil as he took a drag. The second, Gil finds cigarettes about twenty times more attractive than he did five minutes ago.

"I-I'm Odin." The man says, and doesn't stick out a hand to shake over his art and cigarette. "Odin Arrow."

"Gil Marverde." Gil returns sheepishly.

"W-Well, Gil." Odin says and drops his cigarette to the cement as a polished car pulls up to the curb. The trunk glides open, and Odin looks Gil directly in the eyes. "I'll s-say this with the h-hope that I'm n-not misreading this s-situation. Would you l-like to t-take a ride with me?"

Gil is typically rather socially inept, but the look in Odin's eye is a hard look to mistake.

Usually Gil is very aware of situations like this; aware of where he is and who he's with at all times, but as he sits in the backseat of a car nicer than both of his own combined, in the lap and tasting the nicotine flavored tongue of a bummy, loaded man he's just met, he realizes that he's not being as careful as he should be. Luckily, when Odin moves his hands to Gil's ass, it's a little easier to forget his recklessness.

Gil doesn't know when they reach a destination. Gil doesn't care. All he cares about is that both him and Odin are extremely and _visibly_  aroused.

Odin's house is enormous. Gil, of course, would not have expected anything else from a man who spends two million on art, but it makes for a particularly irritating walk as Odin leads him to a room while he still has a raging boner.

But when they reach the room- gosh, it's like the walk never happened. Because Gil is being led back down into a bed with silk sheets and myriads of pillows, and Odin is hovering on top of him, and he can feel the scratch of Odin's beard alongside the soft love of his lips as he kisses up and down Gil's neck.

Gil isn't usually _terribly_  vocal in bed, but he definitely moans when Odin bites his neck.

"Is th-this ok-kay?" Odin asks in his ear, and it has Gil one step away from whining.

He can't find words, so all he does is nod.

It's okay. Gosh, it's so much more than okay when he feels Odin smile against his jaw and a hand trail gentle fingertips down his chest to the front of his pants, ghosting over what's dying to be touched.

Gil _does_  whine at that, and moves his hands to Odin's hair. Odin takes that as initiative to kiss Gil, pressing scratchy lips to his as he grabs onto Gil properly- hand wrapping around his erection through his clothes.

Gil cries out into Odin's mouth, breathing heavy at the feel of cloth on sensitive skin. He feels Odin smile again.

"Can I f-fuck you?" Odin asks, hot and heavy on Gil's lips, and Gil can't do anything but nod.

At his approval, Odin pushes himself onto his knees over Gil's laying body, shrugging off his coat and bringing his dark shirt over his head.

The chest that lays beneath is broad, muscular, and covered with coarse hair. Immediately, Gil's hands twitch to touch it, but he finds himself remembering that they are, in fact, strangers, and petting a stranger who's about to stick his dick in you is, in fact, probably a little weird.

Then Odin's hand are undoing his belt almost right in front of Gil's face.

Gil has a lot of things that turn him on, but he must admit, he didn't know that strong hands holding a leather belt was one of them.

"A-Am I the only one g-getting undressed here or w-what?" Is the sentence that snaps Gil out of it.

"Right. Sorry." Gil says as he lifts himself up enough to shrug off his shirt and toss it in the direction that Odin threw his. His cross necklace gets caught in his shirt as he takes it off, and it almost comes off with the fabric when it snags, but it comes back down, swinging and bumping against Gil's chest.

Once his shirt is off, he's given no time to reach for his pants before Odin lays him down back onto the mattress. Odin stares down at him once Gil is flush against the sheets, and moves a hand to hold the cross in his hand. Something sparks behind his eyes, and his fingers tighten.

He doesn't have the opportunity to ask Odin anything, because after a few moments of staring, Odin is dragging his lips to form kisses from Gil's jaw to his neck to his collarbone to his nipple to his abdomen to his

Gil throws his head back with a whine when Odin kisses his erection through his pants, fingers fisting in the sheets so hard he's scared he'll rip them.

" _Gosh_." He gets out breathlessly, causing Odin to chuckle at the word. Odin's fingers work their gentle way towards pulling Gil's pants down.

And once they do- fuck, once they do- Odin has his mouth around Gil. He can't choke back the heavy moan that tumbles out of his throat.

Gil's never had someone with so much facial hair give him head before; the feeling of coarse hair against his balls as Odin takes him down entirely is unfamiliar, but most certainly not unwelcome.

"I'm not going to last as long as you'd want if you go down on me." Gil warns, voice shaky.

Odin pulls off and laughs, and looks Gil directly in the eyes. "N-Next time, then."

Gil's dick throbs at the thought of a "next time".

**

"M-Mind if I s-smoke?" Odin asks, breathless, as he gets up and tosses the used condom into a bin Gil doesn't care enough to see.

He lays, catching his breath and rapidly becoming more and more sleepy, on his stomach, face shoved into a pillow that smells rather good.

Gil tilts his face to look in the direction where Odin's voice came from, and gets an eyeful of the man standing, back towards him. His muscles are toned, and Gil has never been much of an ass man, but looking at Odin's, he thinks he might become one.

"Not my house, not my choice." Is Gil's response, and he says it cheeky enough that Odin turns his head to throw him a scoff.

"N-Never can b-be too careful. You could have, l-like, asthma or s-something." He walks to a stand next to the bed, opening a drawer and fetching a box of Newports.

"Wow, you're such a gentleman." Gil purrs with a mocking tone, lifting his head to place it in one hand, staring at Odin bring a cigarette to his lips.

"I've b-been c-commended on such b-before." He smiles around the Newport, and then grabs a lighter from the same drawer as the cigarettes.

Watching Odin light the cigarette with a purple lighter and inhale the smoke sparks a fire somewhere in Gil's gut, and all he feels is heat as Odin closes his eyes and breathes in.

"D-Do you w-want one?" Odin asks when he notices Gil staring.

Gil has to think about it for a bit, but then realizes that he doesn't think he could pull it off even half as sexy as Odin can.

"I'm alright, thank you."

Odin chortles and tosses his stuff back into the drawer, shutting it with a wooden "clack".

"You sure? Y-You keep s-staring at my cigarettes whenever I h-have one."

Gil shrugs. "You make it look good."

Odin's eyebrows raise at that, and he gives a small laugh. "Why, th-thank you." He says, and gets back in the bed enough to touch noses with Gil. Gil feels and smells the smoke and heat of the cigarette, and he notes that it feels kind of nice. The smell leaves a bit to be desired, but the way Odin is looking at him makes up for it. "You're a b-bit of a flatterer, aren't you?" He asks, words coming out choppier than normal around the cigarette.

"To you, maybe." Gil finds himself saying, and he breathes in with a smile as Odin huffs out a drag.

Odin plucks his cigarette from between his lips with a grin, and leans forward to kiss Gil. It's less intense than the others they've shared, but it takes his breath away just the same. "I l-like you." Odin mumbles against Gil's lips.

"You're okay." Gil says back, smiling when Odin pulls back just slightly to act hurt.

Gil forgets, for a moment, that he met Odin close to an hour and a half ago and that he should probably leave soon. If just for a moment.

Him and Odin are looking each other in the eye when Odin brings the cigarette back up to his lips, and Gil doesn't think he'll ever tire of watching Odin breathe through it. Not when he keeps his eyes up while he does it, at least.

Odin pulls his hand from his lips, taking the cigarette with it, and leans forward to press his lips against Gil's.

He lets out the smoke once Gil starts kissing him back, into Gil's mouth.

It's dry and bitter on his tongue, and the smell fills his nose, but coupled along with feeling Odin's facial hair and smelling pine right alongside the nicotine, he feels himself getting aroused. Apparently his refractory period is a hell of a lot shorter than he thought it was.

Odin must notice, because all he does is go on his hands and knees above Gil, trapping his head between two hands, one bare and one keeping hold of the smoldering cigarette. Gil snickers, and at that, Odin places the cigarette in Gil's mouth with a cheeky smile.

Gil's never smoked before, so when he takes a tiny breath, he coughs a little at the smell, taste, and feel of it all, eliciting a hearty laugh from Odin.

"Never smoked?"

Gil giggles around the cigarette. "Can't say I have."

"H-How old are you?" He asks, and despite how casually it was said, Gil can see him begin to panic about whether Gil is legal or not when Odin's smile begins to fade.

Gil laughs, trying consciously not to let the cigarette fall into his mouth. "Legal, don't worry." He finds it safe to clarify when Odin looks relieved. "Nineteen."

Odin lets out a cheeky "ooh", taking the cigarette from Gil's mouth to take a drag. "You're p-practically an old m-man. I-I'm only _eighteen_." He says, holding his breath to keep in the smoke.

Gil rolls his eyes. "Call me a cougar, then?"

Odin blows the smoke in his mouth onto Gil's face, making him sputter slightly with a smile. "How ab-bout I just call you 'daddy'?"

Gil winces and laughs. "Ew!"

Odin lets out an exaggerated moan while keeping the cigarette perched tightly between his teeth, doing what seems to be his best impersonation of a porn star. "Oh, _daddy_."

"Stop!" He laughs, shoving lightly at Odin. "What's an eighteen year old doing spending two million dollars at an art auction, anyway?" He huffs.

Odin just smiles. "I w-wanted some new d-decorations."

Gil snorts. "What's an eighteen year old _doing_  with two million dollars?"

"B-Buying art. I th-thought that _that_  was at least ob-obvious."

Gil sighs with a smile. "Not what I meant."

Odin hums. "You f-first. Why are _y-you_  rich?"

"How do you know I'm rich?" Gil says it more of a challenge than a caution.

"Oh, pretty boy, I'd b-be blind i-if I couldn't tell."

"Pretty boy." Gil echoes, if not a bit surprised by that response.

"Pretty boy." Odin confirms. "B-Besides the fact th-that you _did_  buy th-three art pieces f-from an art auction," He snakes a hand to Gil's hair, messy from sex and pale from dye. "This l-looks like your r-real hair color. A-And if your sk-skin and eyeb-brows are anyth-thing to go by, it's n-not. No roots, p-perfect upkeep? N-Not to mention, _this_  vib-brant of a white on wh-what no d-doubt is a v-very dark color undern-neath w-without it b-being the consistency of straw g-gives way to you either being m-magic or kn-knowing how to p-pay people that are pretty damn cl-close to it." The monologue around a cigarette and constant fumbling on words seems to take something out of Odin, and he seems a little less revved than before.

Gil finds the stumbling very endearing.

"Guilty." Is Gil's response.

"How m-much and how often?"

"I have it done about once every two weeks." Gil hums, and snakes his arms around Odin's neck. "Two hundred for a touch up, trim, and my hairstylist to make it healthier. Some complicated process I don't pay attention to."

"So," Odin smiles. "My o-original question r-remains."

"I'm a trust fund kid, nothing better, nothing worse." Gil admits. "No exciting career but no damning history."

Odin snickers. "M-Me too. F-From my mom's side." He ignores the fact that that means Odin's mother is dead.

"Mine's from my dad's." Gil doesn't mind the fact that his father is dead.

" _Oh_ ," Odin says softly, and wrings out a squeak from Gil when he grabs onto Gil's sides. "M-Maybe _you're_  more of a d-daddy's boy?"

"Ew!" Gil laughs, tightening his arms and bringing Odin closer. "Don't make me think of my dad right now!"

"Then just th-think of _me_." Odin says around the cigarette, and when his hands move from Gil's sides to his bare ass, suddenly things are less funny.

One thought Gil has, when Odin plucks the cigarette from his mouth and smothers it on the nearest night stand and moves his lips to kiss Gil's neck, is if hickeys will be able to show on his skin. He's never had any before.

**

He's well prepared, but marathon sex takes its toll on his ass anyways.

It's been a hot minute since he's had sex with anyone, so even just not hurting after the _first_  time was just short of a miracle. But after the fourth condom Odin ties off, he's definitely feeling it.

"My butt hurts." Gil sighs into the sheets, dangerously close to falling asleep as he feels cool air along his sweaty back.

Odin laughs, and he sounds about as breathless as Gil feels. "W-Want me t-to kiss it better?"

Gil laughs back.

"Y-You spending th-the night?"

Gil hums. "Want me to?"

"Well, I d-don't want t-to set up a r-ride home f-for you right now."

Gil gathers the strength to look at Odin- who at some point obtained a cigarette- as he lays on his back, eyes closed, smoke billowing from his mouth.

"Is that a yes, then?" Gil asks with a coyness that's just shy of being smug.

Odin must hear it, because he turns his head to look at Gil and cock his brow. "M-Maybe it is."

"That's cute." Gil says, and can't help but lean in a little closer to Odin; to breathe in the nicotine, if nothing else. "Hey, if you cook, maybe I'll stay for breakfast, too."

Odin scoffs at that. "Yeah, I d-definitely don't."

Gil sighs dramatically. "A shame."

He laughs when one of Odin's hands comes up to ruffle his hair.

**

He wakes up to a ringtone. The loud marimba blares from somewhere on the floor, and he groans at it, cursing Steve Jobs for choosing _that_  tone as a ringtone, out of every tone in existence.

"I h-have an android." Odin grumbles sleepily.

Great. So it's _Gil's_  phone.

Gil groans again, and getting up proves to be difficult when he has a strong arm draped around him and he's wrapped up tightly in silk.

He stumbles to the floor, and he would definitely be feeling the pain in his ass if he weren't so _tired_.

He finds the phone in one of his pants pockets, and a quick glance at the screen shows it's Nevy calling.

He can't even get out a greeting when he answers it, instead ambushed by Nevy's shrill voice.

" _Gil?!_ " Her voice comes out through the speaker so loudly that he pulls it away from his face. " _Gil, are you there?! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!_ "

"I'm fine." He croaks out once he brings the phone close enough to his face. "I was sleeping."

" _Sleeping?!_ " She shrieks, and Gil takes the phone away from his face again with a wince. " _Sleeping where?! You aren't home! It is three in the morning and you are not home!_ "

"I know-"

" _I'm coming to get you! Where are you?!_ "

"Nevy, I'm _fine_. In fact, I'm very _tired_  and would like to get back to sleep. I'll be back home in the morning, and I'll call you if something's wrong. Okay?"

Gil doesn't give her time to protest and hangs up.

He sighs and drops his phone on the floor, walking back to the bed and climbing back in.

Odin immediately reaches for him. "Wasn't a g-girlfriend, I'm h-hoping."

Gil relaxes in Odin's arms and gives a sleepy laugh. "Oh yes. Definitely a girlfriend. If you couldn't tell, I'm _very_  straight, and _love_  women."

He falls asleep to Odin's laugh.

**

He wakes up again to the smell of food.

The bed is empty, the silk is cold, his mouth is dry, his stomach is growling, and his ass hurts.

He groans slightly as he pushes himself up, and rubs a hand over his face. He notices that he still lacks clothes, and he has a bit too much lube on him to be particularly comfortable.

With a sigh, he stands, finding his clothing folded on a chair in the corner of the room.

Wow, truly, what a gentleman.

For want of taking a shower, he figures just his underwear will do just fine until he asks Odin where it is. It's nothing he hasn't seen.

Until he walks out of the bedroom and immediately sees a small girl that couldn't possibly be more than twelve.

He freezes up when they lock eyes. While he is _very_  aware that he is only in his _briefs_ , he cannot- for the life of him- get himself to move.

The girl has poised demeanor; an outfit of purples and a bow atop her head of black hair. When she looks at him, she first is shocked, but it quickly devolves into snickers and giggles.

"Odin!" She calls, loudly, with a mischievous smile and eyes still trained on Gil. "Your _boyfriend_  is awake!"

Gil hears swearing from somewhere, and immediately recognizes footprints close to running. Odin turns a corner down the hall, looking disheveled and upset in a pair of boxers and a ratty tee shirt.

"Raven! G-Get out of here, y-you c-creep!"

"The nerve to call _me_ a creep!" She spins around to Odin and puts her hands on her hips. "Don't think for one second I'm not going to tell Crow about this-"

"S-Scram, you l-little twerp!"

She shoves past him with giggles, disappearing down the hall that Odin came from.

Odin sighs, walking closer to Gil. "I'm so s-sorry. I sh-should have w-warned you I d-don't live alone. I live w-with my sisters and b-brother."

Gil, head still catching up, croaks a little before he speaks. "Uh. Not a problem."

"Y-Yes, a problem. Y-You're in b-briefs. That c-couldn't have been com-comfortable."

Gil turns sheepish. "I'm sorry. I just hope I didn't scar her."

Odin laughs. "Don't worry, sh-she's seen a l-lot worse. Were y-you looking f-for a show-shower?"

"Yes. I feel..." Gil looks down at himself. "A little gross."

Odin laughs again. "F-Follow me."

Odin leads him to a bathroom: a brilliant, extravagant thing, with a rococo tub and sink.

"D-Do y-you want me t-to grab y-your clothes? Th-They're al-already w-washed, so you d-don't have t-to worry ab-bout that."

"You washed my clothes?"

Odin blushes, which is a cute sight. "Uh. Y-Yeah."

Gil smiles. "Thank you. And I'd love if you could grab them."

Odin smiles back, but it hardly constitutes as such; something more akin to pursing his lips, if anything. It's cute. Odin is... cute.

"Y-Yeah. Be right b-back."

When Odin leaves, Gil walks to the shower, pulling back a patterned shower curtain and revealing intricate tiling and a shower that doesn't look horribly dissimilar to his.

Figuring out how to turn on and adjust it is easy, and he's shed his underwear and poised to step in when Odin walks in. Immediately he sees Gil, completely naked.

Odin, most likely because his hands are full of Gil's clothes, screws his eyes shut. "Oh g-geez, I sh-should've kn-knocked-"

And Gil, while slightly embarrassed, figures Odin is flustered over nothing. "You saw me in much more compromising positions last night. There's no need to freak out." At that, Odin opens his eyes, in which Gil gets the idea to throw him a cheeky grin. "Besides, I wouldn't really mind if you joined me."

Odin blushes again. "I-I w-would, but I d-don't w-want my eggs t-to burn. Th-though, I'm sure they a-already have." He grumbles the last sentence.

"I thought you said that you don't cook?"

Odin gives a shy look at that, and shrugs while looking away from Gil. "Well I h-have. A g-guest."

Gil giggles at that. "That's really cute. I take it you don't exactly want this to be a one time thing?"

Odin huffs at that, clearly embarrassed. "I-I mean- I-" He cuts himself off, clearly unable to form words he wants.

This whole situation is cute.

Gil laughs again. "I don't want it to be a one time thing, either. I enjoy your company. And laying on my back under you."

Odin scoffs, and it comes out eerily similar to a snort. "G-God, you can b-be forward, y-you kn-know that?"

"Now there's the pot calling the kettle black."

Odin rolls his eyes. Gil smiles.

"So... Since you've clearly already burned your eggs... Care to join me?" Gil asks as coyly as he can without seeming ridiculous.

Apparently, it works, because Odin is the one to kiss him first.

**

They eat in the same bedroom they fucked.

Originally, Gil hadn't thought that the room was Odin's own bedroom, but as he sits here, cross legged on the bed, clad in only underwear, across from Odin in a similar state, eating mediocre breakfast, and talking with Odin, he becomes a little more convinced.

It's through small details, mostly; the room is miraculously clean, cared for greatly with elegant furniture. But there are little things: the doorknob is losing its shine in some places, there's scratches and dents in the wall here and there, there's parts of the carpeting that look more used than others.

"So, art auction." Gil says after swallowing a mouthful of subpar eggs.

Odin snorts. "Art auction." He parrots.

Gil rolls his eyes. "Why were you there?" He clarifies, making Odin smile.

"I t-told you. D-Decoration."

Gil cocks a brow. "Serious? Brooding, dark, facial haired, mysterious man likes to buy millions in decoration."

"H-He sure d-does." Odin hums. "I d-dabble m-myself, even."

"Oh, is that so?" It's more of a sentence than a question. "Well, forgive me if I don't quite believe you, mister macho."

Odin laughs. "F-Flattering. Art c-can be m-manly."

Gil gives a cheeky grin. "Well, they do say seeing is believing."

"And y-yet you wear that c-cross around your n-neck."

Odin says it as a joke, but Gil can't help but bristle at that, finding difficulty in choking down his anger in favor of just giving a soft retaliation.

"Faith and hope aren't bad things." Gil says, and it's fairly calm, but his brows furrow and he knows his discomfort at Odin's remark is apparent on him.

Odin looks like he wants to retaliate himself, looks defensive, but doesn't argue. "Guess they aren't. J-Just wouldn't p-peg you as r-religious."

Gil shrugs. "Lets me know that we aren't alone. That there's a reason we're here. Because God wants us here. God wanted and created each and every person. That no matter what, I'll never be alone. He'll always be here, and He'll always love me."

Gil can tell by the way Odin opens his mouth that he's about to disagree, but his throats makes a quiet croak and he shuts his mouth before actually speaking. "D-Doesn't God, like, n-not like y-you? P-Pre marital sex, sodomy?"

Gil ducks his head, face warming at the word 'sodomy'. "I'm not without my own sins, of course. Were I want a life of righteousness, I'd employ in the Church. I used to want to, but discovering my sexuality and embracing my libido shied me away from that. I enjoy my life fine enough, and I pray and go to Church often enough. Even if I didn't, God would still love me. God loves all of His children. Me. You. Everyone."

"He sends s-some of His ch-children to Hell."

Gil huffs. "Yes. He does. But sometimes they do things horrendous, things not even God could have expected. Sometimes His children deserve to go to Hell."

Something dark flashes over Odin's face, snagging his eyes and lips to make for an upset expression before reverting back to neutrality. "N-Now that I c-can agree on."

Gil doesn't know whether to cry or laugh at that, so he opts on neither, only reaching his free hand to lay over top Odin's knuckles.

**

He doesn't go home until noon, in which he's given a ride to the gallery, where his car is still parked in the parking lot.

The second he steps in his house, portfolios and statue tucked tightly in his arms to keep them safe, he hears Nevy.

" _Gil Marverde_!"

Gil sighs as he closes the door, hearing footsteps coming towards him from the hall to his left. When she lays eyes on him, she crosses her arms and marches up to him; a very daunting seven inches shorter.

She glares up at him. "What on _Earth_  do you have to say for yourself?!"

He's quiet for a bit, and chooses his next words knowing exactly what kind of reaction Nevy will have. "I got a cute boy's phone number?" He says, experimentally.

He was right.

Immediately all of the anger from her face evaporates, replaced with sparkling eyes and a shocked smile. She gasps. " _Really_?! Did you meet him at the art auction?!"

"Yes." He smiles. "His name is Odin."

"Oh, Gil!" She yells with a smile. But her face drops quickly, going to disgusted. "Oh, _Gil_. You slept over at his house, didn't you?"

Gil would blush if he could. "Yes. I did."

"Gross!" She stretches out the vowel, stepping back. "I hate imagining you like that. Ugh."

He laughs. "Then don't." He remembers the statue he got her and fumbles with the art in his hands to hold it out to her. "Oh, I got you this! It reminded me of you."

Her face immediately brightens, and she nearly looks like she'll cry. "Awe, Gil!" She shrieks, reaching out and grabbing ahold of the statue. "You're the best! I love you!" She unwraps it slightly, and when she sees even a bit of it, she gasps. "Oh, Gil! It's so pretty!" She looks up at him. "You're so nice! Geez!"

"Well," He says with a smile. "You're my favorite girl." He reaches a hand best he can to hug her with one arm, and she returns it happily.

"Hey!" She says when her face presses against his chest. "You smell good!"

Gil laughs. "Thank you."

**

They meet up the next night, at a real fancy place Odin knows.

Gil must admit, they do make a very handsome couple, what with their button downs and slacks, their ties and polished shoes.

They're seated at a table tucked almost in a corner, table cloth soft under Gil's fingers, dim lighting and candle on the table casting alluring shadows on Odin's face.

"W-We talked ab-bout why _I_  was at th-the auction, b-but what about _y-you_?"

"Me?" Gil clarifies.

"You."

Gil smiles shyly. "My roommate made me go. Told me to go and make friends."

Gil doesn't know what makes Odin laugh and smile so wide.

"R-Roommate. P-Pegged you f-for rich enough t-to afford y-your own p-place."

Gil laughs back. "I am, but she's an old friend. We go far back, and I see no reason not to live with her. She's my best friend."

"O-Only friend?" Odin snickers.

Gil rolls his eyes. "Gosh, you do a good job of sounding like her. _Yes_ , she is my only friend. That's why she wanted me to go out."

"Well," Odin says, and moves one of his hands to trace Gil's fingers on the hand closest to him. His eyes are dark, and Gil thinks that he could very well stare at them for hours. "A-Are you g-glad you did?"

Gil bites his lip, choking down both a gasp and a grin at the intensity in Odin's face. He intertwines his fingers with Odin's, and gives a shy smile. "I have to say that I am."

Odin smiles back, piercing and alluring, and squeezes Gil's hand.

**

After Gil sucks Odin off in one of the public restroom stalls, the conversation comes easy enough. They talk air, mostly, all the while Gil refrains from sipping his champagne as often as he can to keep the taste of Odin on his tongue.

When the waitress drops off the check after their meals, she places it on the table close to Gil and gives him a wink.

Odin laughs when they see the check and the "Call Me xx (939) 555 1238" scrawled in green pen at the bottom. He grabs the check and his wallet, and kisses Gil's cheek after noticing how embarrassed he is.

**

When Gil spends the night again, his ass hurts more and Nevy doesn't call. He falls asleep slower than Odin, giving him a chance to drag his gaze across the dark hair on Odin's chest, the coarse patches lining his jaw, his thick eyebrows lax on his head, his mouth parted slightly, his eyelashes delicate on his face.

Gil allows himself to trace nothings on Odin's chest as he sleeps, and he dips into slumber with thoughts of Odin clouding his mind.

**

Odin makes breakfast again, but this time they're just bowls of cereal. They're talking with each other well, softly, when the door opens.

They both look over to see two young girls, one Gil recognizes and another Gil does not. They look like twins.

The one that Gil doesn't recognize is holding a camera pointed their direction. It takes a few seconds of the girls snickering behind the camera for either of them to realize.

Gil has the sense to get embarrassed, covering up his body best he can with his arms and cereal. Odin slams down his cereal bowl on the closest nightstand and struggles out of the blankets, yelling and growling all the way.

When the girls notice, they giggle and squeal, running out from the doorway and slamming it closed, their pittering footsteps echoing behind the closed door.

Odin stops attempting to get out of the sheets when he recognizes the girls are gone, and slumps to a sitting position. "I-I can't b-believe them."

"Does this happen every time?" Gil asks, hesitant to move his cereal bowl.

Odin looks over to him, confused. "Every time?"

"Yes. You know, every time you bring someone over...?" Gil has thought that that was obvious.

Odin furrows his brows. "H-How often d-do you think I d-do this?"

Gil, at the least, was not expecting that answer. "Oh. I guess I didn't think that I..." He trails off, unsure of how to finish that. "It's just- you're so good looking, I guess I kind of thought that this kind of thing would come easy for you."

Odin looks amused. "A-And what e-exactly would 'this kind of thing' be?"

That makes Gil stop. What _is_  his thing with Odin?

When Gil doesn't answer with anything but a shocked expression, Odin laughs and leans forward to kiss Gil.

It's soft, deep. It's easy to get caught in, tangling Gil's guts in knots and making his fingertips clutching his bowl tremble with fireworks. Gil shudders at the wet pop of their lips as Odin pulls away.

"Oh. That kind of thing?" Gil finds himself asking.

Odin laughs again. "I-If that's o-okay."

Gil nods with a wide smile. Odin kisses him again.

**

They go to a play for their second date. It's all very professional, in a building with high ceilings and long curtains. Everything is dim and Victorian, and the play is so horribly boring that the only way they're even able to get through the play is Odin jacking Gil off silently halfway through the first act. They leave at intermission, so disgustingly bored to the point where they have to fuck in the back of Gil's car parked in the parking garage just to makeup for the lost excitement.

**

Their third date, Odin does Gil a surprise of renting out an entire restaurant for the evening, and it's spend with them in a back corner, whispering sweet nothings and dirty talk the whole night, and ends with Gil screaming on all fours in Odin's bed later that night.

**

Gil invites Odin over for their fourth date, because Gil knows that Nevy's leaving for a friend's that night. They spend the night trying and failing to bake things and watching overrated movies, opting on making out during the more boring bits.

Gil has the idea of breaking out some paints and canvases Nevy had stored somewhere, dusty and unused. Odin's the one with the idea to paint Gil.

It's a little smudged from Gil getting too enthusiastic after seeing it, for he couldn't control his pouncing onto Odin, accidentally tapping the painting with his fingers in the process. But still, as it hangs in his hall, it's very beautiful.

**

After a couple months, Gil realizes that spending money on Odin doesn't even feel like spending money.

After a year, Gil and Odin somehow aren't tired or broke yet.

After two years, Gil doesn't think that the butterflies he feels will ever go away.

The first time he says "I do", he means it.

He means it the second time, too, only this time it's in France.

And he means it the third time in Spain.

And he means it the fourth time in Hawai'i.

And he'll mean it every time after.

**Author's Note:**

> are they ooc? i dont really care. sorry about it
> 
> theres NOT enough gilodin content. end homophobia
> 
> tumblr: @memekasasha


End file.
